


Wherever you are is my Home

by mushr00mie



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adopted Children, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort, Complete, Emotional, Family, Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Found Family, Hurt, Hurt Toby Smith | Tubbo, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Other, SleepyBoysInc - Freeform, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29893077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mushr00mie/pseuds/mushr00mie
Summary: Beyond the dirty sidewalks and brick buildings, a boy and his best friend are scared.Not because of their stealing or their demented caretaker. But because they'll never get out of the torture that is their situation.Tommy wants nothing to do with Family. He's gone through too much to be bothered with families and their dynamics.Tubbo wants nothing more than to be in a Family. One that he doesn't have to watch his every move around; one that is loving and caring. He wants love.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Tubbo & Tommyinnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Kudos: 63





	Wherever you are is my Home

If that Walmart was secure, Tommy didn't see it. He glanced down at the watch he had pocketed from it, turning over in his hands as he walked past crowds of people. It had been a relatively easy steal, with barely any cameras, and the place was jam-packed; it was easy to slip in and out with consequences.

He checked the back of it, weaving in and out of crowds of people who didn't seem to care or pay attention. Tommy eyed their pockets greedily, licking his lips at the prospect of extra cash. The watch didn't look like it was worth much, but Toby could bargain for a good deal he was sure of it.

He stopped at a busy crosswalk, blending in between the crowds of excitable families and couples who looked they were on vacation. Tommy wrinkled his nose as the crosswalk light turned green, and everyone moved forward at once.

To be honest, Tommy didn't see why this was considered the best city to live in. He gazed around with lackluster when he spotted something that may have made things a bit more interesting; A wallet in the man's back pocket. Tommy felt himself straighten as Tommy prepared. He stepped onto the back of the man's shoe, and the man stumbled. Tommy pretended to bump into him, seizing the opportunity to grab the wallet.

Tommy furrowed his eyebrow, tucking the wallet into his pocket as he brushed past the man. "Watch where you're going, dickhead!" Tommy spat. The man looked embarrassed, raising his hand up to apologize, and Tommy used the small moment to sneak away, relishing as he ducked in the corner, hearing a moment of panic coming from behind him.

He ducked into a small area between two buildings and behind a garbage bin. It smelled like arse, but it also meant no sane person would walk in. Tommy spotted the man from earlier briskly and frantically walk in front of the alleyway before disappearing from sight.

Tommy glanced down at the wallet, throwing out the credit cards and picking the wallet clean of any belongings. Although he felt a stab of guilt looking at the photo of his family, Tommy had his to take care of, too.

  
  


Tommy sighed as he looked up at the tall brick building which was wedged between two apartments. He clambered up the concrete stairs and opened the wooden door as high-pitched screaming filled the static in his head immediately.

The entranceway was stacked full of shoes, and Tommy immediately ran up the stairs on the left, brushing past John and Tierson, who tossed a ball back and forth. He side-stepped past June, who clutched a book on the stairs. The blonde made his way down a hallway and into a small room, barely big enough to fit a desk, dresser, and a twin-sized bed. He slammed the door closed, which was enough to block out most of the screaming.

"Where were you? Mrs. Keith asked about you constantly! I thought you were toast!" shrieked Toby, straightening up from the bottom bunk. Tommy shrugged, sitting down with a sigh on the creaky office-chair.

"Guess what I got," Tommy smiled, his hand traveling to his back pocket, raising an eyebrow.

"Ohhhh, Uhm, money! A clock! A credit card!" Toby smiled, crossing his legs and leaning his elbows on the crook of his bent knees.

"Hah! Look," Tommy showcased the money, $135 and 46 cents. He tossed the watch to Toby, who caught it, a glint in his eyes.

"Woah," Toby turned it over in his hands, ignoring the price tag.

"How much do you think you could bargain it for? $50? $100?" Tommy asked, leaning forward, his hands bending the cash back and forth. Toby glanced up; his expression was slightly skeptical.

"I-I don't really know! Maybe $55, if I'm lucky," Toby turned to the dresser next to their bed. He opened one of the drawers and pulling it all the way out. On the back of the drawer was a cardboard square, and Toby pinned the watch to the board, smiling as he slid the drawer back in.

"With this money, we can leave soon," Tommy smiled, getting up from his chair and sliding the cash under his stringy mattress. 

"You really think so?" Toby asked, looking up from the bottom bunk. Tommy nodded, taking a seat next to Toby.

"I'm sure of it."

Tommy blinked in the dark, the sound of a distanced dog barking going through the thin glass window. He sighed loudly, using his arm to cover his eyes. One of his legs was on top of his thin sheets, and the other was under.

He heard a slight rustle from under him and another sigh. Tommy assumed Toby was awake, like always. Tommy and Toby had been together ever since they were 7 when they got stuck together in the foster care system. They came to Mrs. Keith’s when they were 9, and they'd been saving up money since. 

Tommy was the pick-pocketer of the duo. Like a raccoon, Tommy could find the easiest things to steal and get them. Toby was the seller; he knew many people at their school and every shop owner on the block.

"Tommy, are you awake?" Toby whispered softly. Tommy smiled but was glad Toby wouldn't see it.

"...Well now I am,"

"...sorry.." There was a silence, and Tommy sighed, moving his head as he leaned over the metal railing, barely able to see Toby's faint outline.

"Tell me," he commanded, smiling as Toby got up from his bed, leaning against the frame. 

"Do you think we'll get a family?" Toby asked, his voice soft. Tommy wrinkled his nose, trying not to look too disgusted. Families meant chores, meant working. It meant relying on someone else, someone who could hurt. The idea of family was a dream to most in this house, where children had gone to Juvie more than once and had "behavorial issues," which Mrs. Keith said herself.

Tommy could point out Toby's past with family, how his old one wasn't the greatest. But Tommy didn't. Because he had problems too.

"Maybe, if we don't escape first," Tommy sighed, getting back in his position, with the rustle of sheets.

"Tommy-"

"Yes?"

"If...if another family doesn't foster us, can we stay together forever?" Tommy could hear the hurt in his voice, one that he had only grown to recognize in all their years together. 

"Fine," Tommy said, slightly bitterly, but Toby smiled anyway, closing his eyes.

"Night, Big man."

"Night, Tubs.."

Tommy awoke with a bright light shining down on his face like the sun had decided to take a walk around Earth. He instinctively used his hand to block out the shining rays of white that blinded him, only for his entire world to be filled with yellow light. Tommy yanked the sheets over himself, feeling himself relax as the light disappeared from his vision.

But his safe space was suddenly ripped away as the sheets he clutched were now all on his legs. Tommy opened his eyes and was met with the face of an angry Mrs. Keith. Tommy had never woken up so fast. He shot up, nearly knocking Mrs. Keith straight in the forehead if she hadn't bent down to Toby, and from the yelp, Tommy heard, he could guess Toby's sheets were ripped from him too.

"Get up! We're going to be late!" Mrs. Keitch practically screeched, rummaging through their dresser and tossing them some mitch-matched clothes. "Pack up! We're leaving in 30 minutes." 

Tommy rubbed his eyes, his eyes training Mrs. Keith as she rummaged some more, throwing random clothes into a duffel bag she'd thrown on the floor.

"30 minutes? To pack everything?" Tommy asked, his voice rising to her volume. Toby blinked, getting up suddenly, and started packing wordlessly. Mrs. Keith turned, her green eyes staring at him with unwavering rage. Tommy glanced outside the window, at the cool night air, then at the digital clock. 4:24 AM.

"I don't want any attitude, Thomas." she snarled, walking out, her packing now forgotten. Tommy turned to Toby, but he continued throwing clothes into his duffel bag, his back turned. 

"Did you hear that? Is she fucking crazy?" he said, turning to their desk and putting his things in his backpack hanging on the back of the chair.

"Tommy, just pack," Toby said tiredly. Tommy blinked, furrowing his eyebrows as he continued to pack.

Tommy wasn't going to lie; he was going to miss the peeling paint of his room. The posters pinned to the exposed drywall. The funky-smelling carpet. It had been his home for years, an ugly, old one, but one nonetheless. And now he had to pack all his belongings into a backpack and leave to god knows where. 

He felt bitterness bubble in his stomach as he threw his clothes into a garbage bag, glaring down at the floor. Toby turned to him, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a garbage bag in one hand. They had managed to fit most things but not their posters and sheets. 

"A-are you ready?" Toby said, finally, as they stood in front of their door. Tommy glanced back at his room, feeling a pit in his stomach. He was leaving. 

"Yeah," Tommy said with a breath, brushing past Toby and heading down the stairs. Mrs. Keith sat on the bench next to the stairs, a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. 

Tommy cringed as he went down, preparing himself for the scolding he knew would follow. Mrs. Keith only smoked when she was either stressed or angry. Both would apply in this situation as Tommy made the last steps down, glancing up at Toby.

"Fucking finally. You always take too fucking long. You know what," Mrs. Keith opened the door, blowing out smoke from her partially opened mouth, "I'm fucking glad you two won't return back here." And despite his hatred towards her, the burning flame that seemed to grow at her expression, her words stung. 

She opened her van, allowing Toby and Tommy a short time to get in before she slammed it close, getting to the driver's seat. Her eye bags seemed darker, and her outfit was poorly put together, with mitch-matched patterns and zebra print. She sighed, dousing her cigarette into her ashtray as she pulled out of the side of the road. 

Tommy glanced at Toby, trying his best not to cry as he watched his home disappear. But he had Toby. 

"We'll be arriving there in 2 hours-"

"Two hours?!" Tommy couldn't stop his mouth from opening as he realized he would be leaving the city he'd been living in his entire life. Mrs. Keith stopped a red light, craning her head as she stared at him cruelly. 

"You never know to shut up, do you? I'd be surprised if your new family deals with your shit." she spat, turning back. Toby's eyes came together as he leaned forward, his seatbelt tightening against his dark green shirt.

"Don't talk to him like that!" Toby yelled, and Tommy's eyebrows shot up his head. 

"Listen here, you little shits. You should be glad I put you two together. Now, I can always just leave one of you back at the building, so you better fuckin' behave." Mrs. Keith continued driving, and Tommy noticed her expression was sourer.

Tommy glanced at Toby, who leaned back in his seat, twiddling with his fingers. If it was going to be a 2-hour drive, they'd better get comfortable. 

Tommy felt himself jolt as he heard a car slam, then a soft hand shaking him awake. 

"We're here. Get up," Mrs. Keith said softly, which caught Tommy off-guard. Mrs. Keith was the opposite of soft, fluffy, or any word that resonated with being kind. She was snide, snippy, or Tommy's preferred description, a bitch. 

Tommy craned his head to Toby, who rubbed his eyes, getting out with a yawn. It looked like Mrs. Keith parked in a suburban neighborhood, with dark fences and houses that were plain. This was very different from the tall, ancient structures Tommy was used to. A man, tall, with a stubble, stood in the front entrance, helping Mrs. Keith carry the little luggage into the house.

Tommy had to admit, the house looked shit. The wooden boards on the outside were flaying off of the house as if wanting to get away. The paint was peeling off, revealing rotten wood underneath it. The windows were fogged up and smudged with dirt.

Tommy opened the door, tightening his fists as he came closer to the man. He looked relatively kind, but Tommy was weary. He couldn't count the times where his foster parent was all sunshine and rainbows at first but turned into dicks later on.

Toby ran to meet up with Tommy, and he felt a calming nature come from his best friend. Toby always had a presence that seemed to instantly douse the fight in Tommy. He didn't know if it was his positive outlook on life, his smile, or his shining eyes, but Tommy felt his breath come easier with him around.

The man guided Toby and Tommy inside the house with an outstretched arm, giving them a smile that held something more than politeness. Recognition. Tommy furrowed his eyebrows as he came inside the entranceway. Had the man been in the system before?

Mrs. Keith cleared her throat; her eyes were kind. If Tommy was grading her, he'd give her an A+ for the acting, but an F for the whole, taking care of him part.

"Well, Phil, I hope you find what you're looking for in these boys. They're just the sweetest at the program! Remember, call me if anything goes wrong. You boys behave," she pointed at Toby and Tommy, and Tommy felt his defenses raise. Her eyes seemed to flare at the sight of them, a warning. She smiled again, waving, and was soon driving off. 

Tommy noticed Phil's hand was still on his back, and he immediately walked backward, cringing at his physical touch. 

The entranceway was used and comfortable; the leather couch was ripped from use, and the side table was filled with picture frames of a seemingly happy family. 

It was all too good. Too pure.

Phil led them down a hallway, with Tommy effectively 6-feet away from him. They came upon an old couch, where he pointed at them to sit down. Toby and Tommy plopped down, ignoring the man's gaze.

"Alright, let's just get started. Any nicknames you want to be called? Pronouns?" he asked, and Tommy almost jumped at the strong accent in his voice. It seemed like Toby and Tommy were the only ones with accents back in the center, but Tommy was slightly relieved to hear he wasn't the only one anymore. 

Toby blinked, his face becoming red as he turned his head away from the man. "C-can I be called ‘Tubbo’?" he said it quietly as if he were embarrassed by the nickname. Phil nodded wordlessly, without judgment.

"And you?" 

"Tommy's fine, I guess," Tommy muttered, ignoring the kind gaze of Phil. 

Phil's house was old, it seemed, but it was definitely lived in. The fireplace in front of Tommy was knicked with picture frames resting on the mantel. The lamp at the corner of the room was cracked, probably due to some incident. In the pictures, it looked like Phil lived with 2 other boys. 

"Any allergies, food preferences?" Phil asked again, typing something on his phone. 

"Nope, I'm a meat-eater. Only pussies eat vegan, only eat vegetables n' shit," Tommy smiled, trying to gauge Phil's reaction. Was he one to yell, scream? Was Phil easy to provoke, or would Tommy have to keep on annoyin' the fucker? Phil simply nodded, and Tommy swore he saw him smile. 

"No, I can eat pretty much anythin'. But too much spicy food makes my stomach hurt." 

This interrogation seemed to last for several hours, but in reality, it was only 6:44 AM, and Tommy was tired. Of this. Of questioning, of Phil acting like he gave a shit.

"Stop fucking faking it, will you?" Tommy snapped, ripping his gaze from the spot on the wood floor. Tubbo turned to him, his eyes widening. Phil seemed taken back before tucking his phone in his pocket, seemingly more tired than before.

"I know what you guys may have gone through before, trust me, I know. But just answer these questions, and we'll head out to shop for some-" Phil started, his eyes were gentle, but Tommy wasn't buying it. Not again.

"How would you know?" Tommy spat, and he felt the heat in his cheeks and fire in his blood. They were all the same, all of them. Tommy stood up, ignoring the pleading eyes of his friend. He might as well speed up the process of being shipped to another house, another Mrs. Keith's. "You know nothing of what we've been through. Stop...stop having this savior complex bullshit! You really thought you could swoop in here and save us, huh?" Tommy walked to Phil, gazing up at the man. There was something in the older man's eyes, something that Tommy had never seen before.

"Look-" he started again, his hand coming down to Tommy's shoulder. Tommy swatted it away, his anger now coming full-force, without a sign of stopping.

"You thought you could save us, huh? Well, guess what, I'm not fucking buyin' it. You can drop the nice act." Tommy yelled, and angry tears sprung to his eyes. There was a tense silence, one that was uncomfortable and filled high with emotions. Phil let his shoulders drop as he took a seat, twidling with his thumbs. Tubbo looked around the room as if a bomb were to release any moment.

"You're right," Phil said, suddenly, like it was being pulled out of his system by a string. Tommy blinked, his tears disappearing. It felt that time had stilled, that the silence had been broken, but not in a horrible way. Like he could feel calm despite himself.

Tubbo remained quiet, observing everything with a silent sort of fear. He looked ready to bolt at any sudden movement, fearful of an explosion of emotions that could be set off with a set of wrong words. But nothing happened.

"What?" Tommy asked breathlessly, his hands no longer tight together, his knuckles were no longer white. His shoulders relaxed, like all the emotions, stopped at once. Tubbo blinked, rubbing his eyes to prove this was a dream. That he had someone kind, that cared. Because it couldn't have been real. It shouldn't have. Yet it was.

"I...I was scared to foster another two boys again. I wanted to make everything be...okay. But clearly, it isn't. And I'm sorry about that." Phil looked up with something so genuine, filled with so much sadness that Tommy felt guilt. 

Tommy no longer needed anger to protect himself from the man who might hurt him. He didn't need to lash out or test his parent for any signs of violence. Because Tommy was a kid. He shouldn't need to worry about setting off an explosion of angry words or fret over his parent. 

Tubbo wiped his eyes, the tears pouring out suddenly because he had a dad. Someone he could play catch with. To talk of crushes, to lean on in the darkest of days. Phil wasn't going to be his savior, his light in the darkness. Phil might not be perfect, one that Toby can depend on 100%. But he was close. And the feelings deep inside, ones of hurt, of sadness, of longing, cried out. Because Tubbo would be happy here.

"I-" Tommy suddenly stopped as tears ran down his cheeks, and Phil rushed to him, clinging to him. Tubbo ran to Phil, hugging him tightly because he was hugging someone. Phil clutched their backs tightly because he knew of their pain. The feeling of being oh so alone, with no one to rely on but yourself.

The boys hugged Phil, not because they trusted him completely, not because they needed Phil to feel guilty. But because they needed a hug. Because they hadn't had one in so long, and they missed it dearly; the soft warmth of someone who cared, who understood, who felt sorry. 

"You boys want some food?" Phil asked, and they chuckled. Because they were home.

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a sort of writing exercise, but now I really want to continue it.


End file.
